


the club isn't the best place to find a lover (so the bar is where i go)

by were1993



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Clubbing, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lime, M/M, Making Out, Tumblr Prompt, alludes to sex, and i'm embarrassed, do people remember lime and lemon and citrus?, i can't believe i tried to write something like this after years of not attempting anything risque, mentions of Daddy KInk, mistaken age, or am i just too old, or just too outdated, seungcheol has nice thighs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9376550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/were1993/pseuds/were1993
Summary: Minghao goes to a club and gets mistaken for a high schooler. He's a little (sexually) frustrated at the bartender who insists on treating him like a child.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: Cheolhao prompt for you please <3 sungcheol is the bartender of a club and won't believe that minghao is of age and always gives him sodas and babies him until minghao gets sick of it and does something about it

_the club isn't the best place to find a lover (so the bar is where i go)_

_\---_

“Two shots,” Minghao orders. He glances at the bottles behind the bar and points at the first bottle he sees. “Of whatever that is.” 

“Coming right up,” the bartender nods. 

Running a hand through his hair, Minghao leans against the counter of the bar and tries to locate his friend. As he thought, Junhui had abandoned him on the way to the bar. The younger huffs angrily. It had been _Junhui_ ’s idea to come to the club in the first place. 

The elder literally dragged him out of their apartment when all Minghao wanted to do was sleep. He couldn’t even get _dressed_. So here he was, standing in a posh night club in his house clothes—a low cut tee and black joggers. He didn’t stand out like a sore thumb at all. Nope, not at all. 

Screw it, he was keeping both shots for himself. 

“Two shots,” the bartender calls out. 

Minghao looks at the two shot glasses next to his elbow and sighs. Taking one glass, he knocks the alcohol— _what?_ Minghao coughs as the fizzy sugar drink burns his throat in a very different way. It was like drinking orange juice when one was expecting milk. A fucking _terrible_ surprise. 

Blinking away the tears, Minghao inspects the other shot glass. The bubbles streamed up the side of the glass just like soda. He takes a tentative sip. Yep, it was lemon soda. 

“Hey, this isn’t what I—” Minghao begins, holding up the shot of soda. 

“Be lucky that I even gave you that,” the bartender shrugs. “Go home and do your homework like a good high schooler okay?” 

Minghao sputters, _high schooler?_ He was _twenty-three_. 

“I am _not_ in high school,” Minghao manages to spite out. 

“Hm, you’re too cute to be anything but in high school,” the bartender hums. He turns to Minghao with the most attractive eyes and body the Chinese _college_ student has seen in quite a while. It was the first time Minghao actually looked at the bartender, and well, he looked fantastic in his white button-up shirt stretched taunt across the muscles underneath. Oh god, Minghao had such a weakness for well-toned men and it was such as shame that Mingyu didn’t work out—“Alright kid, now scram before I call security on you.” 

“I’m not cute,” Minghao stutters, getting caught off guard. He frowns and internally face palms. Out of all the things he could have said. Why. 

“Very cute and very young,” the bartender smiles, seemingly quite amused. Minghao felt his stomach do strange flip-flops. Oh, even his smile was beautiful. “Alright, alright, I can’t ruin the sneaking into a club experience. Go dance, but don’t try to order alcohol. I have lots of soda back here.” 

“I didn’t—oh my god, I—I’m _not_ a high schooler!” Minghao cries. 

“Uh-huh, don’t stay out too late,” the bartender scolds like a dad and not in the sexy way. 

\---- 

“Oh my _god_ , he thought you were a _high schooler_!” Junhui crackles hysterically. Just as Minghao suspected, Junhui had gotten distracted by some school friends and abandoned Minghao for them. 

“You owe me alcohol,” Minghao scowls. It was around three in the morning, and the two college students were sitting on the couch of their shared apartment. For once, neither of them were drunk or even tipsy. 

“But I wouldn’t want to be an enabler,” Junhui gasps through his tears. “Giv-giving alcohol to a _minor_. How could I ever face my mother?” 

“We stole alcohol out of _your_ mother’s cabinet back in high school,” Minghao rebuts. “Don’t even get started with me, Wen Junhui.” 

“Why didn’t you just show him your ID or something?” Junhui asks, finally collecting himself a bit. 

“I—oh, I didn’t think about that,” Minghao admits. He had been too focused on running away in embarrassment. 

“Was he hot?” Junhui follows up. He leans his chin on his hand and smiles. Minghao really wants to punch his friend in the face. The woes of having grown up together. Junhui knows too much. 

“…maybe,” Minghao mumbles. 

“Hotter than Mingyu?” Junhui wheedles. 

“Can we _not_ bring up my ex every single time I see a hot guy?” Minghao pleads. 

“Nope,” Junhui giggles. 

\--- 

“Well, I am pretty hot,” Mingyu laughs. Minghao glares at his ex-boyfriend. “What? I’m just stating a fact.” 

“I can’t believe I dated you,” Minghao groans, burying his face into his hands. 

“Yeah, neither can I,” Mingyu smiles. He flicks Minghao’s forehead gently. “I can’t believe you decided to date me either.” 

And this was probably why they were still friends. Minghao has never known any of his previous partners—male or female, to have appreciated their past relationship as much as Mingyu does. It was unfortunate that they didn’t work out, but Minghao wouldn’t trade their current friendship for anything in the world. 

“So you have a hot bartender who thinks you’re twelve,” Mingyu says with as much seriousness he could manage which wasn’t much at all. Minghao gives him a disgusted look. “Okay, fine, sixteen. Where did you and Jun-hyung go?” 

“Uh, don’t remember the name,” Minghao admits. “It’s like that club downtown? Down the street from the pizza place.” 

“ _Diamonds_? A bartender at _Diamonds_?” Mingyu asks. Minghao didn’t like the sparkle in Mingyu’s eyes. It usually meant he was up to no good. 

“Sure, I don’t know what it’s called,” Minghao says carefully. 

“Well, I might know a hot bartender or two at _Diamonds_ ,” Mingyu declares eagerly. Minghao thinks he sees stars flying out of the other’s eyes. 

“Kim Mingyu, no,” Minghao insists in a deadpan voice. “It’s weird for your ex to set you up.” 

“How about if I ask Wonwoo?” Mingyu offers. 

“It’s even _weirder_ for your ex’s boyfriend to try and set you up!” 

“But—” 

“ _No_.” 

Minghao isn’t even looking, but he can _hear_ Mingyu’s pout from across the table. 

\--- 

“I let you off the hook last time,” the bartender sighs in exasperation. 

“I’m _not_ underage!” Minghao growls. He’s managed to grab one of the bar seats and no one was going to make him move. Nope, not until he got his alcohol. 

“Uh huh,” the bartender hums in amusement. “Did you at least finish your homework?” 

“I—okay, here,” Minghao sighs. He slams his ID on the bar counter. “I’m _twenty-three_. I’m not underage and I’m not cute!” 

“Huh, these fakes look just as good as the real ones nowadays,” the bartender nods, inspecting the plastic card with fake enthusiasm. He slides it back to Minghao with a smile—butterflies fluttered in his stomach. “Don’t waste money on these kid.” 

“This is—I did not move to Korea just to buy a fake ID so I could get alcohol at clubs,” Minghao declares. He pockets his ID and glares. 

“And he says he’s not cute,” the bartender coos like one would to a child. Minghao feels irritation prickle beneath his skin—both at being treated as a child and the fact an _attractive_ man was doing so. The bartender regards him for a moment and shrugs. “If you really just want to dance, next time, just tell the bouncer you’re here to see me.” 

“I’m here to see you?” Minghao echoes. Thankfully the club was dark enough to hide the flush that spread across his cheeks. 

“Yeah, just tell him you’re here to see Seungcheol,” the bartender, no, _Seungcheol_ replies. “ _But_ , you can’t get any alcohol from me _or_ the other bartenders.”  

“I—” Minghao chokes. 

“You can thank me later,” Seungcheol smiles, filling a small cup with lemon soda and pushing it towards the Chinese man. The bartender ruffles his hair a little before returning to his work. 

Minghao doesn’t even complain and just drinks the soda in silence. 

\--- 

“At _Diamonds_?” Chan questions. He looks at Minghao with confused eyes. “But you’re twenty-three.” 

“Well, the bartender there doesn’t seem to think so,” Minghao snorts. He picks at his food slowly, rearranging it from one corner of the plate to the opposite end. 

“Seungcheol-hyung?” Chan questions again. 

Minghao almost chokes on his own saliva. 

“It is Seungcheol-hyung isn’t it!” Chan says triumphantly. “Back when _Diamonds_ had a legit dance floor, he used to let me in as long as I didn’t try to buy alcohol or do anything illegal. Well, he made Soonyoung-hyung my chaperone, but since I only went with him, it didn’t really matter.” 

“You _are_ young,” Minghao groans. 

“I’m an adult already,” Chan huffs. Minghao raises an eyebrow and the younger deflates a little. “I’m younger than _you_ , but that doesn’t mean I’m a child.” 

“How do I let _him_ know that I’m not a child?” Minghao sighs. He stares at his half-eaten lunch forlornly. 

“...be honest with him?” Chan suggests. 

“I _am_ twenty-three,” Minghao pouts. 

“Well, when you make that face, you don’t look it,” Chan shrugs. He checks his phone and jumps up, scrambling to collect his bag. “Shoot, I’ve got class! See you later hyung!” 

“And I’m _not_ cute,” Minghao frowns at his plate. 

“Now that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one,” Chan laughs, sprinting away. “Remember, honesty is the key!” 

But in all honesty, Xu Minghao was twenty-three. 

Okay, fine, he was pretty cute.  

\--- 

It was Saturday, and Soonyoung wanted to hit the dance floors. And he only went to clubs to dance. No alcohol, no sex, just pure adrenaline rush from a crowded room, flashing lights and deafening music. 

 _Diamonds_ had a decent dance floor with good music, and to be honest, Minghao didn’t mind an hour or two in the club. So when Soonyoung calls him, Minghao doesn't think twice about saying yes. Okay, he may or may not have wanted to glean a sight of the bartender, but he did have fun with Soonyoung and his friends. 

They had a little posse of their dance crew friends, and Minghao was dragged onto the dance floor even before he had a chance to even glance at the bar. 

“Hey Jihoon!” Soonyoung yells at the DJ. The smaller blonde looks up from his laptop. “Good music tonight!” 

The DJ shakes his head in exasperation, but Minghao could tell it was mostly fondness. The blonde gives Soonyoung a thumbs up, puts his headphones on and the music switches—from top hits to hints of electric dance music. Soonyoung’s favorite, and oh dear lord, did that man get pumped. This was all completely sober mind you. 

And Minghao wasn’t lying when he said he had fun with Soonyoung. With some great music and great friends, Minghao couldn’t keep the smile off his face. At some point, Soonyoung cleared a circle on the dance floor and insisted Minghao show off some of his b-boy skills. Drunk off the bright lights and throbbing music, Minghao doesn’t even think twice before taking command of the dance floor. 

Don’t let anyone ever say that Xu Minghao doesn’t like attention. When he danced, he wanted _everyone_ to be watching—and a tiny part of him wonders if people at the bar could see. 

Minghao was completely sober when he stumbled to the bar, but the high of just _dancing_ hadn’t worn off yet. He may or may not have looked a little tipsy with red cheeks and dilated irises. 

“Pre-gamed a little?” a different bartender asked. He smiles brightly, scooping ice into different mixers. 

“I sure hope not,” Seungcheol interrupts. He gives Minghao a stern look and places down a glass of lemon soda. “He’s too young.” 

“Oh, let them live,” the other bartender laughs, smile bright and wide. “Can’t go Papa Coups on all of them.” 

“Watch me,” Seungcheol glowers. “Get back to work, Seokmin.” 

“Yes Papa Coups!” the smiley bartender cheers. 

“Papa Coups?” Minghao asks. He’s still breathing quite heavily and the fizzy drink was doing wonders for his throat. 

“Ah, inside joke,” Seungcheol chuckles. “S.Coups is a stage name of mine—S for my name and coups for coup d'etat, and then well, I’m like everyone’s dad here at the club so, Papa Coups.” 

“What was your stage name for?” Minghao asks curiously. He takes another swig of the soda. 

“I rap for fun and so that was like my rapper name!” Seungcheol rambles in excitement, leaning against the bar counter. Minghao tries not to count the stars in the other’s eyes. “I’m still working on it but I have a friend who’s pretty good and so we kind of put together a group and have get-togethers to write lyrics and— _oh_ , that’s right! _You_ dance well!” 

“Thanks,” Minghao responds a little startled at the suddenness. 

“I didn’t know you were friends with Soonyoung,” Seungcheol says. “He _would_ be the one to bring kids to the club to dance, but hey, you dance well!” 

“I’m not a—thanks,” Minghao stops himself. He was in too good of a mood to be arguing with the bartender. He’ll convince Seungcheol later. 

“When’s your birthday?” Seungcheol asks out of nowhere. “Does it fall on a weekend this year?” 

“November 7th,” Minghao answers automatically. He looks up at the bartender in confusion. “I think it’s on Saturday?” 

“It’s coming up! Swing by and I’ll mix you something,” Seungcheol smiles. He leans in and stage whispers. “I’ll pretend that your fake ID is real.” 

If anyone asked, Minghao danced too hard that night. He had _not_ been blushing. Nope, Xu Minghao did not blush. What was blushing? Never heard of it. 

\--- 

“And he offered to mix you a drink for your birthday?” Junhui asks, face red from containing his glee. “He offered to give alcohol to a _minor_? Do I need to call your mother, Xu Minghao?” 

“Wen Junhui, can you stop being such an ass?” Minghao groans. He face plants into the couch cushions and tries to suffocate himself. 

“This is better than any television drama I’ve ever watched,” Junhui swoons. “This plot! These characters! Although the protagonist needs to shape up—not enough character development.” 

“What kind of character development do you want me to have?” Minghao mumbles into the cushion. 

“Like try harder?” Junhui suggests. “You haven’t really done much to try and convince the guy that you’re legal and of age. I offer myself to be a character reference for you—definitely twenty-three, legal, single, non-virgin, kinky little shit, mix of a masochist and a sadist—” 

“What kind of ‘character’ are you trying to convey?!” Minghao exclaims, sitting straight up and glaring. 

“That you’re legal, single and fun in bed,” Junhui giggles. 

“I—get out,” Minghao sighs. 

“I live here too you know,” Junhui smirks. 

“Get out before I kick your ass,” Minghao growls. 

“Hm, lack of character development,” Junhui quips, skipping towards his bedroom. The elder knew when to retreat. “How about you, like try harder?” 

Junhui closes his door right before the flying couch cushion could slam into his face. 

\--- 

It was a slow Friday night, and Junhui had a test coming up so the older boy had barricaded himself inside the library. It was the first time in a while that Minghao had no plans and wasn’t being dragged off somewhere. 

It wasn’t really a conscious decision to go to _Diamonds_ , but when he decided to take a walk through downtown, Minghao found himself walking into the club and right up to the bar again. Once again, the bartender was there. 

Seungcheol was chatting with some of the other club goers, some more drunk than others. He was friendly, flashing bright teeth and shining eyes. Sure, he wasn’t going to be noticed, Minghao takes a moment to really look at the other man. 

Dark hair, thick lashes, strong jaw, toned arms, _oh_ —Seungcheol drops something and bends down to pick it up—thick thighs and _a fine ass_. He’s now staring unabashed as the bartender rolls on the balls of his feet, rocking his hips slowly behind the counter. The bartender was probably just tired of standing on his feet all night, but all Minghao could think of was the other man bending him over and— _what the fuck_. 

Minghao groans and buries his face into his hands. This was not good. His mind reeled with pictures, none of them safe for work and not all of them with him receiving. Minghao tries to recount the last time he had _any_ kind of sexual encounter with more than his own hand, and his mind came back blank for the past year. Has it _really_ been that long?  

“Are you feeling okay?” 

Minghao looks up in surprise. Lo and behold, the subject of all his current fantasies was standing there looking concerned. His face must still have been red because Seungcheol immediately places his palm against Minghao’s forehead. Feeling the pads of the bartender’s fingers against his skin, Minghao almost stops breathing. 

“You’re a little warm,” Seungcheol hums. 

 _No shit_ , Minghao thinks, trying to breath normally. But that is a futile task as the bartender finds his hand maybe too inaccurate and leans forward so their foreheads touch. Minghao stops breathing altogether and starts counting the other’s eyelashes. 

“You should probably go home,” Seungcheol says, leaning back. Minghao finally takes a large gasp of air. “You probably don’t want to call your parents but do you have friends who could come pick you up?” 

“I—I’m fine,” Minghao croaks. Seungcheol gives him an unimpressed look. “Really, I’m okay, and there’s no one home right now anyways.” 

The bartender’s expression went from stern to sympathetic. Minghao almost face palms when he realizes Seungcheol’s obvious misunderstanding. 

“No, my _roommate_ isn’t—” 

“Come on to the back,” Seungcheol says firmly. “Go around and next to the bathrooms there’s an employee’s only door. Wait there okay?” 

“I’m really fine,” Minghao insists, but Seungcheol stares at him resolutely with his lips pressed in a thin line. There was no way Minghao was winning that staring match so he concedes with a small sigh. “Okay.” 

Apparently, the employee’s only door led to a tiny breakroom. It had a two seater couch squished against the wall, a mini refrigerator and a microwave balanced precariously on top. There was another bartender already there, and he looks up from his phone to stare at Minghao. 

“You brought in another stray,” the pretty bartender says, pushing back some hair that fell out of his ponytail. “Looks a little young for you to be preying on.” 

“And that’s Jeonghan. He’s one of the other bartenders. You should have seen him around,” Seungcheol introduces, ignoring the previous comment completely. “Get comfy and if Jeonghan takes up too much of the couch, you can just cough on him. He’ll move.” 

“Yah, you brought a _sick_ person back here?” Jeonghan whines. “You _know_ I can’t get sick right now! I got travel plans coming up!” 

“Then get back to work!” Seungcheol suggests, disappearing through the doors to the bar. 

“Hm, I guess I’ll just deal with the sick one,” Jeonghan sighs. He pats the empty spot next to him and motioned for Minghao to sit. “What’s your name?” 

“Uh, Seo Myungho,” Minghao introduces himself. He sits down on the couch slowly, back straight and ready to spring off it at any moment. 

“ _Oh_ , you’re Mingyu’s ex!” Jeonghan exclaims. “So you’re not an imaginary person!” 

“I—wait, how do you know Mingyu?” Minghao asks. This was the first time anyone’s recognized him as _Mingyu’s ex_. They hadn’t broadcasted their relationship—well, at least they tried not to. 

“I used to work at the coffee shop near the university campus,” Jeonghan says in explanation. He looks Minghao up and down. “Huh, so you’re not as young as Cheol thinks.” 

“I’m twenty-three,” Minghao clarifies. 

“Mingyu did say you two were the same age,” Jeonghan laughs. “None of us believed him though. We thought he had dreamt someone up. God, if only our dear Seungcheol knew. To think all his woe had been for naught.” 

“His woe?” Minghao repeats slowly. 

“Do you find our Seungcheollie attractive? Actually, don’t answer that,” Jeonghan smirks. “I see your wandering eyes when you think no one’s looking.” 

Minghao inhales to start explaining, but Jeonghan shushes him.  

 “I’ll just let you in on a little secret,” Jeonghan smiles. He has a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Our Papa Coups might want to be your daddy in more than one way.” 

Unprepared for the information and the onslaught of mental images, Minghao chokes, and Jeonghan thumps his back happily. 

“But the good man has you way off limits,” Jeonghan sighs exaggeratedly. “A dear innocent child, how could he ever taint that?”

“I—I, what, I—,” Minghao tries to verbalize _something_ , but with his thoughts whirling, he’s not too sure what he was trying to say.

“Here’s some tea—Yoon Jeonghan, what did you do to him?” Seungcheol exclaims, walking into the break room with a mug of tea and a thin blanket. 

“Just advised him to avoid old creeps like you,” Jeonghan says cheerfully, giving Minghao two more hard pats on the back. He stands up and stretches. “Looks like it’s time for me to go back to work!” 

“Old creep? I’m like twenty-five,” Seungcheol frowns. 

“Huh, if someone’s seventeen, then you’re definitely an old creep,” Jeonghan laughs. He unties his ponytail and lets his long hair frame his face. “See you _daddy_.” 

“Now _he’s_ the true old creep,” Seungcheol huffs, sticking his tongue out at Jeonghan’s retreating back. “A swindler and a creep.” 

“I’m _not_ seventeen,” Minghao grumbles. 

“Of course kid,” Seungcheol agrees. Minghao squeaks when Seungcheol picks up his legs and swings them onto the couch. Half reclined, the Chinese man flushes at his vocalization, but he doesn’t fight it when the elder throws the thin blanket over him and tucks in the sides. 

“Don’t treat me like I’m five,” Minghao complains. 

“Just relax and drink some tea alright?” Seungcheol chuckles. He ruffles Minghao’s hair and the younger scowls. “Oh, how scary and adult he looks. Does our adult need a good night kiss too?” 

“I’m not sick though—” 

Seungcheol manages to cut him off with a quick kiss on his forehead. Minghao stares at the bartender blankly. His body takes a moment to realize what happened and all the blood rushes to his cheeks. 

“Just leave the sick person alone,” Minghao demands, quickly turning on his side to face away from the other man. 

“Get some sleep and the tea is on the table okay?” 

Minghao tries not to react when Seungcheol pats his shoulder. 

“I might not have a break for another couple of hours so you can leave when you need to,” the bartender continues. Minghao hears the telltale sounds of the door opening and the noises of the club outside. “Be good.” 

“Yes, daddy,” Minghao responds. It was meant to be sarcastic, but the sarcasm gets stuck in his throat. What came out was soft and—well, Minghao wanted to bury his head in the sand and never come out. Minghao blames the pretty bartender, Jeonghan, for everything. 

Minghao’s not sure whether the older man heard him or just got distracted with someone from the bar calling his name, but Seungcheol stops at the door for a long moment. Minghao exaggerates slow breathing and waits. Once Seungcheol leaves and the door closes behind him, Minghao gets up from the couch—folds the blanket because he’s a polite guest—and runs out the door.   

\--- 

“ _You called him_ daddy,” Mingyu shrieks in laughter. He almost falls off the dining room table chair, and Minghao almost wanted him to. “Oh Seo Myungho, you got it bad.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Minghao groans. After leaving the club, he ran to Mingyu’s apartment in a panic. Apparently, his ex was in the middle of doing something—ah, well, maybe more accurately _someone_ , but the fear of the lithe Chinese man kicking down their door was real. 

“I’m pretty sure Seungcheol-hyung enjoyed that,” Wonwoo comments, emerging from the bedroom in a presentable state. Mingyu, on the other hand, was only in his boxers. “Out of our little rap group, he would be the one with a daddy kink.” 

“Oh god, don’t talk about daddy kinks,” Mingyu groans. “It was traumatizing enough to know that Hansol—” 

“Can we not debate on Hansol’s daddy tendencies and talk about whether I should move back to China or not?” Minghao interrupts. 

“Hao, you don’t understand,” Mingyu whines. “Hansol calls _Seungkwan_ —” 

“You don’t need to move back to China,” Wonwoo interrupts. He gives Mingyu a pointed look— _boundaries, Mingyu, you need them even for your ex-boyfriend-slash-best-friend._ “From what I heard, it just sounds like you just need to convince Seungcheol that you’re not too young for him.” 

“But _how_?” Minghao cries. 

“Your birthday’s coming up,” Wonwoo suggests. “Celebrate it at _Diamonds_ and show him—” 

“Exactly how thirsty you are,” Mingyu snickers. 

“—that you’re _definitely_ not too young or innocent,” Wonwoo finishes. He gives Mingyu an exasperated but fond look. Mingyu catches the other’s eye and bares his teeth in mock anger. They dissolve into quiet giggles. 

Minghao watches the scene unfold with a little envy. Don’t get him wrong. He was happy for Mingyu—how the _hell_ did he manage to land someone as wonderful as Jeon Wonwoo was beyond Minghao’s comprehension, but he wanted that for himself. Minghao doesn’t know Seungcheol well, but he could see it in his mind—sitting around a table at 3 a.m. drunk off soft cuddles and inside jokes or fucking on the table— _okay_ , _stop Xu Minghao, just_ stop. 

“Oh, wear those ripped jeans that you have,” Mingyu suggests. His eyes were gleaming again and Minghao sighs. He hears Wonwoo sigh at the same time. “And do you still have that silky button up? Also, come here maybe half an hour early so I can do your hair.” 

“Are you a culinary student or a fashion major?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I am a culinary fashionista,” Mingyu responds haughtily with his nose in the air. “Have you seen my dishes? My 2016 Fall collection of curry around the world is _classic_.” 

“And I think you’re a classic dumbass,” Minghao mutters under his breath. 

“That’s it,” Mingyu scowls. “Get out! Leave!” 

Wonwoo just laughs but he also hopes Minghao leaves soon. He’s not too sure how much longer he can endure the vibrator quietly, especially with Mingyu casually thumbing the switch underneath the table.

\---

     H.vern0n.C : oh were meeting @ diamonds? 

     jejU_bOO : *we’re 

     jejU_bOO : isn’t that were seok-hyung works? 

     hurricane_h0sh1 : yaaaah! dance dance dance! 

     MJ_D1N0 : sounds good! when are we meeting? 

     Sexy_Chinese&single : pregame at our apartment, anyone need address? 

     smole_one : kwon soonyoung why am I in this chat? i work at diamonds and who the fuck changed my name 

     tall_one : IT’S NOT ME HYUNG 

     smole_one : you 

     smole_one : are 

     smole_one : dead 

     smole_one : Kim 

_tall_one changes smole_one to dont_kill_me._

     dont_kill_me : Min 

     dont_kill_me : Gyu. 

_dont_kill_me changes tall_one to dead_one._

lol 10pm pregame then 11pm @ diamonds?      

     H.vern0n.C : rip hyung 

     Z_MIMINOBITA : oh I’m invited?? *O* 

\--- 

Most students would think it’s awkward going clubbing with an assistant professor, and rightfully so. But Minghao met Zhoumi when the elder had still been a student himself—a post-graduate student with a frustrating thesis, but still a student. In the couple years he’s know the man, Zhoumi has never been known to turn down alcohol. 

And a tipsy Zhoumi was an even _more_ talkative Zhoumi. 

“My little _didi_ is turning—how old are you again? Twenty-four?” Zhoumi giggles with a friendly arm over his shoulders. They barely made it through the bouncer who gave Zhoumi a skeptical up and down but waved them in. “Ugh, I remember when you were just a _tiny_ thing! You still kind of are but—” 

“Let’s go dance!” Minghao yells as the music gets louder. Jihoon had just switched with the last DJ and Soonyoung had long disappeared. 

“I should buy you a shot first!” Zhoumi yells back. “Can’t start off your birthday sober!” 

“It’s okay I have a free—” Minghao starts to say, but the older man has zipped away. Minghao shakes his head fondly. He’s about to head towards the bar when Junhui grabs his shoulders and pushes him towards the dance floor. 

“Jihoon’s gonna play your dance playlist!” Junhui cheers, shoving Minghao forwards. The man was in a good tipsy zone, stumbling over syllables but not steps. “Perks of knowing the DJ!” 

“That was supposed to be the _surprise_ Moon Junhui!” Soonyoung pouts, emerging from the crowd. He shoots Minghao a blinding smile. “Myungho, let’s go!” 

Minghao knew he looked good today—ripped jeans, a flowing button up shirt and eyes lined for maximum sharpness. Stepping onto the dance floor, he was already feeling quite confident, and his favorite dance songs amplified over the club’s speakers made Minghao bold. He knew the beats intimately so Minghao had absolutely no problem just letting loose. He conquered the dance floor with a spontaneous mix of previously practiced choreography and new moves. Minghao _knows_ he was an attractive picture in the flashing club lights, and he wonders if a particular bartender was watching. 

Minghao had been in a three-way dance battle with Soonyoung and Seungkwan when Zhoumi squeezed through the crowd with a half empty cocktail glass and a shot of clear liquid. 

“Still sober?” Zhoumi asks with a scandalized gasp. 

“Still sober!” Minghao yells back. Seungkwan was doing exaggerated hand motions, lip syncing to the currently playing rap song. When Hansol jumped in with an even more exaggerated lip sync to the singing chorus, Minghao dissolved into giggles. “I don’t think _they_ are though!” 

“And I don’t think you should be either!” Zhoumi smiles. He offers the shot glass and Minghao takes it. 

Minghao was about to knock it back when someone grabs his wrist. The sudden motion causes the glass to slip out of Minghao’s hold. While the glass didn’t shatter, it splashes the alcohol onto Minghao’s shoes, but the birthday boy didn’t even notice. 

Instead his eyes were on Seungcheol. The bartender had Minghao’s wrist in a death grip and the usually sparkling eyes were clouded with anger? disappointment? worry? Seungcheol glares at Zhoumi before pulling Minghao to his side. 

“I do not condone giving alcohol to minors,” Seungcheol says loudly over the music best he could. Zhoumi looks at the bartender with confused eyes and then at Minghao, seeking some kind of answer. Minghao opens his mouth and then closes it. 

“Myungho’s like twenty-four,” Zhoumi yells back indignantly. “It’s his birthday and I’m just buying him a drink!” 

Seungcheol gives Minghao a disappointed look. He shakes his head and just pulls Minghao along with him. Zhoumi makes a move to stop them, but Minghao frantically shakes his head, leaving his confused friend behind. Squeezing their way through the dance floor, Seungcheol’s grip hadn’t loosened at all, and it was starting to hurt a little. 

“Seungcheol-hyung, he wasn’t—” Minghao begins, but he realizes his voice is lost in the music. 

The bar was quieter than the dance floor, but not by much. Seungcheol leads him past it and into the corridor next to the employee break room. 

“Okay kid, I said that I would mix you something for your birthday but that did _not_ mean that you can go soliciting drinks from others,” Seungcheol scolds, and Minghao feels the anger raise in his chest. “Don’t _lie_ to people about your age to get free alcohol!” 

“I’m not lying!” Minghao growls in irritation, throwing off the other’s hold. 

“Okay, then please explain why your _friend_ thought you were twenty-four,” Seungcheol says. He crosses his arms and Minghao couldn’t help but notice how the other’s white button up shirt stretches across those strong biceps. It was unfair. He was so _frustrated_ with the bartender, but Seungcheol was still so _damn attractive_. 

It might have been inhaling excessive hair spray at Mingyu’s place or maybe it had been the seventeen times Junhui stabbed his eye with the eyeliner pencil, but in an impulsive act, Minghao shoves Seungcheol against the wall. 

The bartender hadn’t been expecting it and stumbles backwards in surprise. Minghao takes advantage of the confusion to trap Seungcheol with his hands on either side of the elder’s shoulders. The Chinese man leans in, enough that he can feels Seungcheol’s choked breaths against his nose but not enough that they were touching anywhere else. 

“If I were twenty-four,” Minghao asks roughly. “Would you let me kiss you?” 

“I—wait, this isn’t what—” Seungcheol stutters. His arms were still cross in front of him, but now they were defensive. 

“Would you?” Minghao asks again. This time he looks up through half-lid eyes and pouts, and he almost smirks when Seungcheol’s breath catches. 

“Kid, if you were twenty-four,” Seungcheol breathes. It sounded like he was having trouble speaking and Minghao winks. “Okay, stop that, if you were twenty-four, yes, sure, why not, but you’re like—” 

“How fortunate then _daddy_ ,” Minghao whispers, leaning in until their lips were _almost_ touching. Seungcheol stares at him with wide eyes and whimpers. Minghao does smirk. “How fortunate that I _am_ twenty-four.” 

For how sexually frustrated Minghao had been, the kiss was surprisingly slow and gentle. The Chinese man leaned in slightly for their lips to meet— _soft_ , Minghao thinks. He shifts so their noses weren’t pressed together awkwardly and it was then that Seungcheol began to respond. Bodies frozen but lips moving together—Minghao wasn’t sure what he expected but the kiss was all _feeling_. It almost felt too innocent to be sharing in the corridor of a dark club. 

“Oh hey Hao, happy birth— _oh, sorry!_ ” 

Seungcheol all but harshly pushes Minghao off. Surprisingly still on his feet, Minghao turns towards Mingyu with a glare. The taller man puts his hands up in frantic apology. 

“Sorry!” Mingyu apologizes again with pleading eyes. If looks could kill, Mingyu knew he would have died several times over. “I didn’t know that you two were busy, uh, doing that yeah!” 

“You two know each other?” Seungcheol asks hoarsely. 

“Oh uh, yeah, hyung, uh, Seo Myungho here uh, is my ex-boyfriend,” Mingyu rambles. “Yeah! So, uh, he’s like my age. Like not a minor! Uh, I mean he’s like five months younger than me, but yeah, um, we’re both twenty-four now so, hahaha, I can’t say he’s younger anymore, hahaha.” 

“Kim Mingyu,” Minghao says slowly but menacingly. “I think I heard Wonwoo-hyung calling for you.” 

“Oh he went to the bath—” 

“ _I hear Wonwoo-hyung calling for you_ ,” Minghao repeats and Mingyu’s eyes widen with realization. 

“Oh yeah! Uh, I hear him too! From the urinal!” Mingyu agrees quickly. He turns away and practically sprints away. 

“Seo Myungho,” Seungcheol says slowly. “You were the imaginary boyfriend.” 

“Yeah,” Minghao confirms. He reaches up to scratch his head but then stops when he remembers his hair was styled. Instead, he goes for fiddling with the rings on his fingers. For his birthday, he went all out with the outfit, hair and accessories, but for the first time tonight, Minghao feels a little small. 

“So you’re twenty-four…today,” Seungcheol says enunciating each syllable carefully. 

“That’s correct,” Minghao says, fidgeting a little more. He doesn’t know why he switched to formal speech but the stifling atmosphere seemed to call for it. 

“Your ID wasn’t fake,” Seungcheol says, squinting at Minghao. 

“No, that was my actual ID,” Minghao nods. 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Seungcheol groans, slapping a hand over his mouth and furrowing his brows. Minghao waits, but Seungcheol doesn’t move. The muffled music was the only thing Minghao could hear over his own thundering heartbeat. 

“I can leave if you—” 

“No, just,” Seungcheol exclaims, looking up with wide eyes. Flustered at the direct eye contact, Seungcheol looks back down. “Just give me a moment okay?” 

“How about we talk about this some other time?” Minghao offers. He shifts awkwardly in place. “So you can figure”—he makes some vague hand motions—“this all out and then, we can, _woah, okay there!_ ” 

Minghao wasn’t expecting the other to reach out, grab both his wrists and pull him flush against the bartender’s body. They were nose to nose again, but this time, Seungcheol was the one smirking. The elder releases his hands and the birthday boy flails a little, trying to figure out where to put his hands and finally placing them on Seungcheol’s shoulder. Minghao almost yelps when he feels the other’s hands slowly trail down his side until Seungcheol hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of Minghao’s pants. 

“Since you’re twenty-four today,” Seungcheol whispers against his cheek. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes,” Minghao breathes out, and he doesn’t even get the chance to inhale again. 

 _This_ kiss was more of what Minghao expected—sloppy, loud, desperate and _intense_. Minghao finds his hands in the other’s hair, and Seungcheol had one hand up his back and the other tracing the waist of his jeans. 

“Since you’re twenty-four today,” Seungcheol chuckles, breaking their kiss to mouth at Minghao’s neck. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes,” Minghao pleads, breath hitching at every nip of his skin. 

“Where?” Seungcheol murmurs again his Adam’s apple. 

“ _Anywhere_ ,” the younger whines as the bartender presses soft kisses on the underside of his chin. 

It didn’t take much for Seungcheol to untuck his shirt and Minghao groaned at the other’s hands against his bare skin. Everywhere the elder touched _burned_. Seungcheol pulls him even closer—how was that even _possible_ , and nudges Minghao’s legs apart with his thigh. It’s thick and firm between Minghao’s own, and if that didn’t cause his own arousal to stiffen, then the obvious press of Seungcheol’s growing erection against the outside of his thigh _definitely_ sealed the deal. 

Minghao rocks against Seungcheol’s thigh, trying to get the other to _move dammit_ , but Seungcheol is still. His hands were still and his lips were pressed into an amused smile. 

“If you ask whether you can fuck me or not, I’m going to fuck _you_ ,” Minghao growls, unamused at the sudden stop. 

“Tempting,” Seungcheol teases and Minghao pouts. “But somehow I don’t think we should do any fucking here where anyone can walk by and see.” 

“Honestly, I don’t care if we have an audience,” Minghao huffs. He tries to kiss Seungcheol but the older man just turns away and it lands on the other’s cheek. 

“Maybe some other day,” Seungcheol laughs. The action causes Seungcheol’s leg to rub against his crotch and Minghao stifles a moan. 

“ _Daddy_ ,” Minghao whines. He purposefully uses his falsetto and curls his words, knowing exactly how desperate he sounded. Seungcheol starts breathing a little more labored than before, and Minghao leans in. “Please?” 

“Since you’re twenty-four today,” the bartender says evenly. 

“Why,” Minghao frowns, slipping out of his act, and the elder playfully kisses the tip of his nose.

“Since you’re twenty-four today,” Seungcheol repeats with a soft giggle. “Can I take you home?”

\--- 

_say, boy, lets not talk too much, grab on my waist and put that body on me_

\--- 

“I can’t believe you thought I was seventeen for like a month,” Minghao scoffs, lying on his back. Naked, he stares up at the unfamiliar ceiling in the soon-to-be familiar room. 

“Well, the first time you came in,” Seungcheol reasons, wrinkling his nose. “You were like in a large cartoon shirt and sweats. You looked _really_ young.” 

“My friend dragged me there against my will—oh _shit_ ,” Minghao sits up and ignores the sharp pain of moving too suddenly. “I ditched my friends at my own birthday party.” 

“Oh yeah,” Seungcheol laughs, sitting up as well. “I promised you a birthday drink. What do you want?” 

“Surprise me,” Minghao shrugs. On the floor, he spots his phone laying on his fallen shirt and crawls over the grab it. From the soft creaks and shifts on the mattress, Minghao hears Seungcheol get off the bed. He was about to ask the older man to grab his phone for him when a swift hand slaps his sore bottom and Minghao lurches off the bed. “That’s _not_ what I meant!” 

“You enjoyed it earlier!” Seungcheol calls, running out of the room and dodging the pillow Minghao throws at him. 

“I’ll get you next time!” Minghao yells from the floor. He grabs his phone and scrolls through his missed messages.

     MJ_D1N0 : hyung where did you go? 

     Hurricane_H0SH1 : ARE YOU OKAY? WHERE DID YOU GO??? 

     dead_one : did I convince him? are u 2 fucking? 

     wonU : mingyu, did you realize that you sent this in the group chat? 

     Hurricane_H0SH1 : ??? 

     dead_one : oh shit 

     dead_one : I didn’t say anything 

     dead_one : coups-hyung still has no idea 

     wonU : … 

     dont_kill_me : wait, myungho is the underage kid? 

     Hurricane_H0SH1 : WHAT ABOUT UNDERAGE KIDS??? WHY DOESN’T ANYONE TELL ME ANYTHING?? 

     Sexy_Chinese&single : OH MY GOD 

     Sexy_Chinese&single : R U GUYS FINALLY FUCKING?? 

     Sexy_Chinese&single : REPORT BACK IN THE MORNING HAO 

     Sexy_Chinese&single : STAY SAFE AND USE PROTECTION <3 

     Hurricane_H0SH1 : WHY DOESN’T ANYONE TELL ME ANYTHING?? 

     Hurricane_H0SH1 : SOMEONE PLS EXPLAIN 

     Sexy_Chinese&single : Myungho’s a ho for this Seungcheol bartender and they’re finally getting at it 

     Hurricane_H0SH1 : Coups-hyung??? WAIT MYUNGHO, YOU WERE THAT KID?? 

     H.vern0n.C : were we still going to karaoke? 

     jejU_bOO : *we’re 

     jejU_bOO : jfc ofc 

yeah, im w/ cheol-hyung      

sorry didnt mean to ditch you guys      

to be fair none of u guys realized until like two hours after i left      

     Sexy_Chinese&single : TOTALLY FUCKING  

Minghao rolls his eyes, exits his messages and opens his emails just as Seungcheol walks in with a glass tumbler. 

“What is it?” Minghao asks, deleting emails with a swipe of his thumb. He doesn’t even look up and accepts the drink. The glass was cold and the ice clinks against the sides. 

“A surprise,” Seungcheol smiles. 

Minghao takes a sip and pauses. The younger looks up at Seungcheol with an offended pout, but the bartender was quick to kiss it off. After a couple more kisses, Minghao figures he can forgive Seungcheol.

The smell of something burning hits their noses, and Seungcheol jumps up— _shoot, I heated some food on the stove, why did I even try, I should just use the microwave next time_. Minghao merely laughs as the elder scrambles back into the kitchen muttering curses.

Taking another drink of his birthday surprise, Minghao smiles. Lemon soda. 

\--- 

_every day discovering something brand new (I’m in love with the shape of you)_

\---

the end. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a super cute prompt and honestly papa coups is love. I have one more cheolhao fic in the queue LOL i just have this love for cheolhao that i don't know where it came from but it's consuming me (and my SVT fanfiction folder) 
> 
> So i tried something a little more risque than I've been writing? I...I am so out of practice. BUT DO I WANT TO GET IN SMUT SHAPE??? DO I ACTUALLY WANT TO RETURN TO THE SMUT WRITING ARENA?? ...tbh not really LOOOL too much work and research V__V"
> 
> Anyways, this is why if you send me a tumblr prompt, it will take me weeks to write LOOOL It starts of as this small 500 word thing and then it grows. I have a gyuhao one WIP and it's HUGE now LOOOL
> 
> yeah feel free to send me fanfic prompts on my fanfic tumblr: were1993fanfics  
> if ur lucky i'll finish it in like a month or two.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed! ESPECIALLY YOU ANON! <3 <3 <3


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